Leap of Faith or Insanity
by Teyerin
Summary: A 'comedy' in two parts: what happens when someone accepts a dare?
1. Cyrus and Connie

_Disclaimer: Resolve to remind myself that I own nothing of Wolf's things. Never have, never will._

_Story takes place either Season 19 or Season 20 - reader's choice. Inspired by a Writer's Digest prompt._

_Leap of Faith_… (or Insanity)

"Please don't. This isn't going to work. I'm not qualified at all for this."

"Sure you are."

She didn't believe him, so with the crowd looking on, he proved his point.

Cyrus Lupo tapped the microphone a couple of times, hearing the 'thump, thump' echoing in the dark, semi-smoky room. He figured that most of the folks who remained had either called this dive their home or they were dodging an inevitable return to such a place. Right now, he felt dangerously exposed - naked and exposed without his gun - standing up on the stage, three of the four spotlights dimly shining on him.

'Now I know how a perp feels in interrogation,' he thought as he shielded his eyes, counting the souls - semi-conscious and not - who would probably just as soon heckle him than call for his assistance in the case of an emergency.

Sitting front row and slightly off-center was the instigator of this leap of insanity - Consuela Rubirosa.

He gave her a rueful smile, cleared his throat, and then took the plunge.

"Um, hi." What he wouldn't give for a transporter beam-out by Scotty right about now, he thought. He said the first thing that came to mind, the first thing that would probably earn him a beer or two - thrown at him. "I'm a cop, not a comedian."

One guy in the back, complete with lumberjack-plaid shirt over an obvious beer gut, 'kindly' gave a sarcastic clap - thrice in half a minute.

"Um, yeah," Cyrus said, giving a shout out to the one respondent. "Completely thankless job. Definitely not all it's cracked up to be - policing junkies, not practicing jokes, I mean." That got a guffaw from the other corner.

Cy shrugged. "Yeah, I guess it's obvious I've not been practicing jokes, either. So, why do I walk the beat?" Removing the microphone from the stand, he began to pace about the stage, repeating the question once more. He took a few more steps, pivoted, then stopped.

Feet shoulder's width apart, arms stretched out at the sides, he waited a few heartbeats, brought the microphone back to his mouth and deadpanned, "Do I _look_ like I can dance to one?"

The response startled him. A number of folks broke out in laughter. Getting an encouraging smile from his friend, his traitor, Cyrus continued.

Before he knew it, his few minutes of 'fame' were done and he quickly, yet contently jumped off the stage.

--

"You are so going to pay for this," Cyrus told her as the bartender brought him a drink on the house. "I can't believe you talked me into it. _I_ can't believe I actually _did_ it! What was I thinking?"

Connie placed a hand on his forearm, relieved that he wasn't as irate as he had a right to be. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe you're crazy? Maybe it's a head start on a midlife crisis?"

Cyrus tapped his glass against hers before emptying half of his in one gulp. "Well, I _do_ know I'm crazy." He said the last word in such a way that she knew he knew she had to know what he meant "As for midlife crisis…"

Connie frowned as a wistful look crossed his face. Almost any other day of the week, the two of them, along with their respective partners and bosses, could joke about age, always saving the best for the oldest.

He motioned for a refill. "Today, I officially surpass my brother in age."

Connie felt her face redden. Sure, she had access to his birthday - in more ways than one. Sure, she had the difficult task of prosecuting the one responsible for the assisted suicide only to lose in the 'final hour.' Yet why she failed to see this coming, she couldn't say.

"At least you're still living." She looked around the bar, the patron count half of what it was before Cyrus took her up on the silly challenge. "Your _comedy_ act may be dead, but-."

When she turned to face him once more, the familiar chuckle followed by that comforting smile relieved her of her earlier anxieties, until she saw the glint in his eye.

"Oh, ye of little faith," he retorted before giving her a peck on the cheek.

(fin)


	2. Mike and Max

Leap of Faith…or Insanity - II

"No, nuh-uh, no way!" Mike Logan shook his head as his partner waited a few steps ahead of him.

"What are you afraid of?" Max Greevey asked "You make it sound like-."

"No," Mike said emphatically. "I agreed to come over with ya, but I said nothing about-." He began walking back towards the house. "No, change that. _You_ said nothing about-."

Max chuckled some more. "So, are you seceding to the non-Irish at last in terms of-?" Mike winced; Max knew he baited the young man.

"Hey, there are some things we Irish don't back down from," Mike said, stabbing a forefinger to make a point, yet remaining where he was.

Max stepped up, waiting for Mike to continue. "Really? Prove it."

The young man's stubbornness on something as simple as this tickled the father to no end, aware that he was probably being watched from the kitchen window. Of course, if they didn't get moving soon, there was a chance he'd be mobbed, so he changed tactics.

"C'mon, Mikey. I'm up here, aren't I? What's the problem?" Max walked the perimeter. "You're not afraid of heights, are ya? I know you're not. We've been plenty of places without a rail or a net or-."

Like a puppy suspecting something attached to the 'sweet offering,' Mike took some deliberately slow, tiny steps. "Yeah, well that's because I've been a bit more focused on the perp we're trying to catch at the time, not taking in the sights."

Max stood on the edge of the perimeter opposite of where Mike would enter, if he finally did.

Mike took a tentative step up before returning both feet to solid ground. He removed his jacket, still protesting. "I'm gonna break my neck on this thing, aren't I."

Max put on his best serious face. "I will not let that happen to you, partner. Because if I did, I'd have to train a rookie and I don't have time for that."

A child ran past Mike. "Hey, no shoes!" A second child, half a head taller, repeated the sentiment. "Yeah, no shoes."

Hesitantly, Mike followed the suggestion, removing his shoes and dropped them atop his jacket, crumpled up on the damp grass. "Max-."

"Have a bit o' faith, Mike. If the kids can brave it, so can you."

"This is more like madness," he mumbled circling the perimeter before joining the kids in the middle. "Madness," he muttered once more.

"C'mon, mister, ya gotta do it right. Like this."

Max moved back towards the steps, settling for the hard backyard, smiling. He watched as his partner tentatively followed the kids' lead before uneasiness finally gave way to something else.

Max's wife, Marie, came up behind him, placing her arms about his waist. "I can't believe you did it, Max."

"Show a little more faith in me, will ya? One small leap for me, a giant leap into childhood for Mikey."

She slipped something into his hand. "Remind me never to play poker against you, dear."

"Bet on it." He gave her a peck on the cheek before fulfilling his side of the deal. "Oh oh."

Mike Logan's eyes widened for a moment, throwing off the momentum he had finally established. Like a young child learning to walk on skates for the first time, Logan made his way to the perimeter and then to the steps.

"Max? What was that, Max?"

Marie chuckled. "Hi, Michael."

Mike gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Hi, Marie. Max? Did you just take-?"

"Daddy! You said!" one of his children piped up.

"Yeah, Uncle Max! You said!"

Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Max said, removing his shoes to join the children properly.

Mike watched as the older man bounded towards the center of the action. "Marie, I don't-." He stopped, seeing a simple smile on her face.

She pushed him to follow her husband's lead. "Let's just say we made a little wager." Mike turned to face her, waiting for a better explanation.

"My sister and I made a bet that there was no way he'd get up on that thing and he countered that he would, pending you went first."

Mike's jaw dropped. Looking from Max to Marie back to Max, he called out, "That's called entrapment, Max!"

Max found his own rhythm in no time, laughing as he was finally catching up to the children. "Nah, Mike, it's call a trampoline!"


End file.
